Hey, baby, is that you? Wow, your hair got so long...

Between last year and now, the clash has become more evident: that I feel like a different person in both places.

The energy remains the same. But not always the outlook and attitude. What changes most is the reality. I don't know which one will last, or which one I want to.

--

But I do know that 1) Christina is fantastic for sending me multitudes of songs, and that despite trees being chopped at 7 a.m., 74 Lincoln = Can't touch this!

Well, it's the last day of August

and I've only changed my schedule once.

And written an "experimental piece" in about an hour (muchas gracias, Pablo Murray).

And felt that life was full, and constantly moving, not passive.

And named our wireless network, "Can't touch this."

And twisted on my own as if it were nothing.

And been happy. Am happy. Still so, in fact.

And known that I need to keep moving, living, writing, learning, before I can plant myself down in one place.

A little:

sick, nervous, stressed, sad, excited, confident, and yet a good part satisfied.

It's that time, of course, to write a letter.

It is cold.

It is cold.

The rain strikes closed eyes, pricks the skin, but captures the trees in green.

It is time, the tired wind says. Time to see flurries on light gray days. Time to miss you like end-of-day sunshine, so simple and beautiful.

Phoenix

I like to check off the skills I've done and the body parts I've hurt.

Then I do those skills again. And again.

By choice.

He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
--W.B. Yeats--

The feeling's mutual.

Isn't it lovely to realize that the people you stalk on occasion stalk you back?

We're just too damn curious, all of us.

The next pool party

Of course I think I ate too many s'mores, but it was just a right kind of night -- friends around the fire pit, laughing as the night dries us after a failed game of "Marco Polo," together without pressure or pause, a Long Island night.

Hair

I measured my loose ponytail on Saturday and found that it reached the requisite ten inches.

"Should I donate my hair now?" I asked my parents.

My mom looked at me. "...It's up to you."

"It'll grow back," my dad reasoned.

Confidence.

556

"You cannot love God but hate your neighbor."

If today you hear God's voice, /
harden not your heart.

Confession/Want/Dreams

I really enjoy Timbaland's "The Way I Are."

..

I want to:
-travel
-write creatively
-write professionally
-learn
-teach
-work with children
-stay free
-stay healthy
-stay involved with gymnastics
-be qualified to do anything I fancy
-get married. stay married. and love.
-afford to live wherever I find myself
-raise children that don't frustrate me.
-change the world, somebody's world, in a good way
-be remembered
-finally, maybe, be satisfied with this life

..

Forget dreams, something said. You're too scared to leave.

I don't think so, I answered.

..
Which I'd almost forgotten...

Lift my days,
light up my nights

"You know what makes me happy?

You'll think it's really random and dorky."

"What?"

"The fact that you're doing fulls again."

Aww, Meghan! :-)